


It's a Total Dump Out There

by Soupernabturel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bin!Cas, Bin!Dean, Cas is a Wheelie Bin, Dean is a Wheelie Bin, Ficlet, Fluff, General Trash Talking, M/M, Recycling, Rubbish Related Puns and Humour, Trashtastic, destiel trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5352542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernabturel/pseuds/Soupernabturel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is just your average wheelie bin, Cas is all about recycling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Total Dump Out There

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeated/Unedited/Unread
> 
> [My Tumblr](soupernabturel.tumblr.com)

Dean didn’t mind being wheeled out to the curb early every third day.

 

There was a cute organics bin a little ways down the street he got to see every now-and-again. They never spoke, for often Dean was only wheeled out a few moments before the pick-up truck arrived to empty him. Even then Dean didn’t  know what he would say to such a bin. Litter bins and Organic bins had almost nothing in common, besides- Dean told himself- she was probably filled with bugs. Dean did not enjoy bugs.

 

He was just a regular old (bug free) Wheelie-Bin, nothing fancy, nothing special. Trash of all kinds was chucked into him (which could be hell on the ole self-esteem); a mix of substances and refuse- but Dean didn’t let it get him down. He took it all and thanked whatever deity he first thought of when people tied off the ends of their condoms, kept their used cat litter in plastic bags, or poured off milk down the sink before throwing it in him.

 

Turned out there were small justices in the world after all.

 

When not out on the road, waiting to be emptied, Dean resided with the garage, a roomy space, more than enough for him, a car and the several thousand boxes it stored. The boxes were stuffed with dusty bits and bobs that Dean suspected (one day) would find their way inside him.

 

The truth was Dean didn’t mind so much- being a bin, at least for the most part. He liked his existence just as it was, at least  he told himself that when he noticed the cute yellow-lidded organic bin saddled alongside a large sturdy rubbish wheelie not unlike him.

 

Okay so maybe being a bin was kind of lonely.

 

At least until it wasn’t.

 

Dean was joined at the curb one dewy morning by an unfamiliar bin, an unfamiliar blue bin.

 

Surprise and a zing of apprehension wound its way around Dean’s base. The invader sat in the spot right next to Dean’s usual- sitting there as though he was king of the curb, with his shiny blue body and clean exterior.

 

He didn't even shift back on his wheels to make room for Dean as they were pushed up alongside each other. Personal space utterly decimated. It was awkward for Dean; being pressed so close to a bin he didn’t even know.

 

And a recycling bin at that.

 

Dean couldn’t help it- he stared.

 

The blue recycling bin was judgementally silent.

 

It wasn’t that Dean was prejudiced (it was almost impossible for a wheelie-bin to be truly prejudiced what with risking alienating themselves from 80% of the bins they’d ever meet in their lifetime), but recycling bins didn’t know hard labour, they didn’t know trash. Dean wasn't wastist he just knew that recycling bins never had to suffer through the pain of holding spoiled food, the embarrassment of scours and scours of dirty diapers. It wasn’t their fault- they were only doing what they were created for, but Dean still couldn’t help feeling a little superior, a little more weathered than his more ‘eco-conscious’ counterparts.

 

“You’re not very full,” the recycling bin commented in a road-rough tone that grated (pleasantly) on Dean’s plastic. “Possibly because of your inferior functioning, as more and more households are opting for greener solutions, consuming much less and more wisely-rendering you almost obsolete in the wider scheme of things-”

 

Dean shook with ill-concealed rage.

 

“You’re not exactly full either!” he snapped. He leant over on one wheel to stare pointedly at the top of the other bins lid- as though he could see through it. “Guess people just don’t care as much about recycling as you think.”

 

His comment hit and it hit hard.

 

The recycling bin opened his lid a little in protest before he slammed it shut.

 

The two of them spent the remainder of the morning in silence.

 

 

^~^~^~^

 

Unexpectedly (or rather expectedly) it became a pattern.

 

The recycling bin (that Dean had come to learn was named Castiel) was there every second day and wheeled into Dean’s space within the garage in between.

 

As such it became inevitable really that the two ended up spending a lot of time together.

 

It only made sense for Dean to find a new hobby; combatting Cas’ recycling facts and sermons (for that was what they were) with jokes.

 

“Hey Cas?” Dean asked shifting in his axis a little, amusement layering his tone. “Why are recycling bins so optimistic?”

 

“I do not know Dean,” drawled Cas, by now very much familiar with the routine. “Why are recycling bins so optimistic?”

 

“Because they’re full of CANS!” Dean flapped his lid in delight, spraying litter.

 

Castiel chided Dean for spitting up rubbish, attention fixed on the rubbish below them on the nature strip. “Recycling is no laughing matter,” he said sternly, despite the small warm that filled the space between them and his tone.

 

From the both of them Dean knew the other bin was amused.

 

 

^~^~^~^

 

It struck Dean an embarrassingly short while later that he was absolutely smitten with the other wheelie bin.

 

It happened one morning when they had both been already emptied and were merely waiting to be wheeled back to their place in the garage.

 

Castiel- Dean had learnt- had a tendency to babble, and had taken to lectures likes flies to off meat. Dean had first discovered this after listening to a several hours long lecture about the necessity of cleaning one's food containers of waste before binning them. Listening to Castiel’s haughty impassioned lecture was the first time Dean realised that perhaps he liked seeing the other bin wound up, maybe he even liked listening to him.

 

Castiel’s particular lecture this morning had Dean zoning in and out, balancing back on his wheels so his front was slightly raised. He was trailing his awareness over Castiel’s sleek blue body, not at all displeased with what he was seeing.

 

“-generate 21.5 million tons of food waste each year. If they composted that food it would reduce the amount of greenhouse gas the same as taking 2 million cars off the road. Dean?”

 

Dean’s attention shifted off of Castiel’s shapely behind.

 

“Huh?”

 

Castiel pressed his side against Dean’s and opened his lid a little. “Are you alright?”

 

Dean shivered all over but did not move away from the feel of sun-warmed plastic against his own.

 

“Yeah. Fine.”

 

“Am I bothering you?” Castiel asked, with a sudden insecurity that surprised Dean more than anything.

 

“What? Cas, no!”

 

“I know I can be bothersome,” Cas went on. “Other bins have found me to be irritating, preachy. I can understand your reluctance to be associated with me.”

 

“Cas I love when you talk!” Dean blurted.

 

Cas’ bin lid fell shut, he stopped moving all together.

 

Dean felt as though his green plastic body was about to melt from shame. Embarrassment warmed his base.

 

“I-uh- I mean-” he scooted over and pressed his whole body, wheel and all, meaningfully against Castiel. “I don’t find you annoying Cas, or boring- actually it’s more of the opposite.”

 

“Oh,” said Castiel faintly.

 

“Oh,” agreed Dean.

 

He felt Castiel shift impossibly closer to him, carefully lifting one wheel and his bottom heavy body to lean in against Dean’s side.

 

“Well,” Cas murmured, “Yes. Alright then.”

 

Dean felt flushed.

 

“I’ll let you know if you ever get annoying Cas.” He teased.

 

Castiel shot him a glare that threatened to spit up glass.

 

Dean rubbed one wheel against Castiel’s aside. “So-ah, you wanna go on telling me more about renewable energy?”

 

Radiating happiness, Castiel did just that.

**Author's Note:**

> Written, again for SPN Coldest Hits challenge, December edition.
> 
> I decided to take the prompt 'Destiel Trash' literally.
> 
>  
> 
> soupernabturel.tumblr. com


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